


The Blue House with the Yellow Door

by WrathoftheStag



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: A little melancholy but it has a happy ending, Alicia means well, Baker Bitty, Falling In Love, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Opening Up, Shy Jack, Slight Anxiety, introspective jack, jack gets a dog, letting yourself be happy, self-confidence, soulmate AU lite, squint to see a soulmate au, the universe butts in as well, trusting others, trusting yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrathoftheStag/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: It's often been hard for Jack Zimmermann to open up and trust people.  When Jack meets local baker, Eric Bittle, he doesn't quite know what to make of him. The universe is giving him signs to open up, so perhaps it might be time for Jack to listen and give love a shot.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 146
Kudos: 408





	1. Beginnings are Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's [that fic](https://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/post/189779058344/im-working-on-a-zimbits-fic-and-it-doesnt-really)! This is a WIP, but I have it planned out. I'll update once a week.

It was a small thing, really. Not something most people would readily notice, but it made all the difference in Jack’s morning. There on the corner, nestled among the large historic homes on Gano Street, sat a small blue house. Modest and unassuming, it was a bright blue house with a sunny yellow door. 

During his commute to work, Jack would pause a bit longer than he needed at the stop sign on that corner. He’d then take a peek at the house. Despite being surrounded by Providence’s finest, it stood out from all the others. Jack would smile every time he drove by and soon began to call it the Falcs House.

One afternoon, after coming back from a particularly grueling roadie, Jack made his way back home, driving slowly and feeling rundown. He sighed and eventually pulled up to the stop sign on Gano Street, and felt a smile began to form when he saw the little Falcs House. 

There was just something so cheeky and sweet about that yellow door—just unabashed optimism in a time when cynicism was the norm. He noticed there was a new pot of tiny yellow roses sitting on the bottom front step that wasn’t there before. A small Pride flag poked out of it. The flowers swayed gently as the wind chime near the front door dinged and donged. 

Jack exhaled and felt his shoulders begin to ease; the tension bled out of him. Jack turned up the volume on his radio and hummed along as he drove toward his apartment.

**+++**

The dog had been Alicia’s idea. 

“I just don’t like you being so alone all the time,” Alicia had said over the phone. 

“I’m not alone,” Jack said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have the team.”

He looked out toward his balcony, watching the sun as it began to set.

“That doesn’t count, Jack. You need more. All I’m saying is wouldn’t you like to have someone to come home to? A dog would be nice.”

"What's papa doing?" Jack asked.

"Not changing the subject," Alicia chirped back.

The next day at their team meeting, the social media director, Jorge, announced that they would need two volunteers to visit a local shelter for National Dog Day.

"I just need a couple of photos with some dogs. Nothing too complicated," Jorge said.

Tater gasped and immediately raised his hand and pulled Jack’s up as well.

“We’ll do it!” he called out. “Send Zimmboni and me!”

"Great! Thanks," Jorge said.

Jack’s name had been jotted down on Jorge’s notebook before he even had a moment to protest. 

Hell. Jack figured this was the universe telling him something, so he may as well listen… or whatever. 

“Zimmboni, this is going to be best day!” Tater sing-songed as they drove to the shelter the next morning. “Maybe you’ll get a _shchenok_ like your mom wants you to.”

Jack wasn’t so sure about the entire situation until he stepped inside the rescue shelter and saw her sitting there. A plump yellow lab with enormous sad brown eyes, curled up in the corner of the dog run, sitting far away from the other dogs.

“Here are our newer guests,” the shelter volunteer said as she motioned toward one of the dog runs. "We can take out anyone you'd like. Thanks again for doing this. It's great publicity for the shelter."

Jack ignored her as he sat down on his haunches and touched the chain-link fence near the dog. 

“Hey, there,” he said. 

The dog ambled over toward Jack and slowly wagged her tail.

“That’s Butter,” the volunteer said with a smile. “She’s our resident lab, I guess.” 

She looked at Jack and gingerly sniffed and licked at his fingers. There was a little card with her photo taped on the dog run.

_Hi, I’m Butter! I’m four. I like peanut butter, long naps, being scratched behind my ears, and am very shy._

“She likes you, Zimmboni!” Tater said as he held a tiny chihuahua one of the other volunteers had placed in his hands.

“How long has she been here?” Jack asked as he smiled warmly at Butter.

“About six months.” 

The volunteer walked over toward Jack and Butter. She clutched her clipboard to her chest.

“She has trouble with one of her hind legs, she’s super shy, and not a puppy… so she’s not really popular, you know?” 

“Zimmboni,” Tater began, his tone already pleading.

“Yeah, I know.” 

Jack looked at Butter and instantly felt a kinship. She looked tired. Just tired and, somehow, disappointed, and Jack 100% got that. 

“She’s a beauty. Can we start the paperwork for her?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the volunteer said, barely hiding her joy. “Absolutely.”

Jack took Butter home that night, and as she rode shotgun, she placed her head near Jack’s thigh. She yawned once and fell fast asleep before they even got home.

“You’re going to be best dad dog,” Tater said as he scooted up closer to Jack from the back seat. "And I'll be dog uncle!"

Jack looked at Butter asleep and hoped so.

After they dropped off Tater, Butter and Jack arrived at the apartment.

“Well, this is it,” Jack said when he walked Butter inside.

He leaned down, took off her leash, and placed it on the counter. He then dumped her new bed, toys, and food on the hallway floor.

“Euh, let me give you the grand tour."

Jack motioned toward the sofa.

"This is the living room. I usually watch tape and read in here. You can sit on the couch, I guess. That’s the kitchen; I don’t do much in there. Well, nothing exciting, anyway. The bedrooms are down this way, and that’s the balcony. Be careful if you go out there.”

Butter observed Jack intently as he spoke. 

“You can just sniff and explore the rest, girl.”

She wagged her tail and began to walk around the apartment. 

Jack let out a worried sigh. “I hope I don’t disappoint you,” he said.

Butter took to Jack right away, following him everywhere in the apartment, and Jack was reluctant to admit that his mother had been right. Eventually, Butter's nickname became Beauty, which then somehow turned into B.B. for short. B.B. enjoyed her morning jogs with Jack and began to familiarize herself with her new neighborhood. And when Jack went on a roadie, she would go to the doggie daycare without fuss, patiently waiting for his return without so much as a complaining bark or whimper.

Jack hated how often B.B. had to stay there, and thought it was unfair of him to do that to her, but whenever he returned from roadies, she would be so happy, Jack couldn’t imagine not having her around.

One night, the two sat on the couch, watching a baseball documentary on Netflix, while Jack was on his weekly phone call with Alicia. B.B. yawned lazily and plopped her head on Jack’s thigh. 

“What’s papa making for dinner?”

“Fried chicken with mashed potatoes.”

“Sounds good.”

"What are you having?"

"I steamed some chicken and had some buttered noodles with broccoli."

“Jack…”

Ah, yes. There it went.

“You need to have more in your life than hockey, sweetheart.” 

Jack knew this song. Maman loved to sing it often.

“I have B.B.,” Jack replied.

“Okay, you need to have more in your life than hockey and B.B.—no offense to B.B.”

Jack sighed. After he adopted B.B., his mother quickly moved on to Jack’s dating life, or rather, lack of dating life and was not letting up anytime soon. 

“Don’t you get lonely sometimes?”

“I got a dog.”

“Jack…”

“Maman.” Jack shook his head. “No, I’m too busy to get lonely. It’s hard to meet people, and even harder to know if they’re genuine. Besides, I have the guys. I travel a lot; you know how it is… Maman, I gotta go. Someone’s knocking on the door.”

“But--”

“Love you. Bye.”

Jack ended the call and tossed his phone onto the loveseat across from him. B.B. huffed, and he scratched her head and nodded.

“I know, girl. I know.”

**++++**

“Welcome to Blue Haus. Fancy a freshly baked scone?”

Jack blinked as he was caught off guard by the sunny, smiling face before him. 

Blue Haus opened a few weeks ago, but Jack had yet to stop in. He prided himself in supporting as many local businesses as he could and felt bad that he hadn’t made his way there yet. Blue Haus already had a small following with the Falconers. Many of the guys would go after practice. Tater mentioned they had the best kolacky.

“Zimmboni, they have best kolacky,” he had said.

And so, Jack found himself making his way to Blue Haus, with B.B in tow, after one of their walks. He was only going to stop in for a coffee, but it smelled so good, Jack couldn’t help but be tempted.

“Or maybe you don’t want a scone?” the man asked, looking a little worried. 

“Oh, sorry. No, I mean, yes. Um, sure… what kind… of scone?” 

The man laughed softly.

“Let’s try that again. Welcome to Blue Haus. Do you like scones?”

Jack felt his cheeks flush. “Sure?”

“Well, do you like savory or sweet?” he asked.

“Um, savory.”

“Now you’re cooking with gas. I have bacon scallion cheddar, prosciutto and rosemary, and olive lemon leek.”

“I don’t know. Whatever you think, I guess.”

The man—Eric, according to his name tag—shook his head. 

“Uh-uh. That’s not how it works at my place. There are no ‘whatevers.’ You order your baked goods with pride, conviction, and passion.”

Eric pointed at the small chalkboard to the left, which listed that day’s featured items.

“Take another look,” he said with a bright smile.

“Euh, a bacon, scallion and cheddar scone?”

Eric’s eyebrow arched. “Try again.”

Jack wrinkled his brow. 

“May I please have... a delicious bacon, scallion, and cheddar scone?”

“Sorry, we’re all out,” Eric deadpanned.

Jack looked at Eric, completely bewildered.

“I’m just teasing you, honey,” he said with a smile and a wink. “One bacon cheddar scone. Coming right up!”

Jack gave him a nervous half-smile in return, not quite sure what to make of the man or his behavior. 

He turned back to check on B.B quickly. He could see her through the window. She was still where he left her, sitting next to the streetlamp. When she saw Jack, she quickly sat up and wagged her tail.

“Oh, is that your friend?” Eric asked as he bagged Jack’s scone.

Jack nodded. 

“She or he?” he asked.

“She. B.B. Her name is B.B.”

“Well, she is precious.” Eric waved at B.B. “Here, a peanut butter cookie on the house for Ms. B.B.”

Jack felt his cheeks turn red, not wanting the extra attention.

“No, that’s okay, really.”

The man waved Jack off. “Nonsense. These are dog treats. A special treat for a special girl. You, however, owe me $3.00 for the scone.”

“Sure, sorry.” 

Jack fished out a five and then put his change in the tip jar.

“Enjoy the scone, and I hope I see you and Ms. B.B. again.”

He smiled so brightly. Jack just nodded and quickly walked out.

“What was that all about, girl?” Jack asked B.B. as he took a look over his shoulder.

Eric waved at them from inside. Jack nodded and made his way down the sidewalk.

As they walked, Jack replayed their interaction in his head. He immediately thought of things he could have done differently, things he could have said to make that cute man laugh. Social interactions were always tricky for Jack. Once he was comfortable with someone, he could chat—no problem—but beginnings were still hard.

“I could have said the bakery smelled good,” he said out loud. “Anything.” 

B.B. looked up at him as Jack mentally berated himself the entire walk home. Halfway home, he said to himself under his breath, “Eric.”

He pictured Eric’s bright, open face and smiled.


	2. Sweet Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack bumps into Eric, and the team notices. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting somewhere! (I think...)

The Falconers returned from St. Louis with their egos almost as bruised as their bodies. While they got the W, it was still hard-won. Jack hated feeling the way he always did when returning from a win like that one, feeling as if one misstep (probably his) could have cost them the game.

That evening, when Jack finally made his way home, B.B. was already waiting for him at the door. She had her leash in her mouth. The dog walker had picked her up from her doggie daycare earlier and let her into the apartment.

“Hey, you,” Jack said as he dropped his bag and held open his arms. 

B.B. wagged her tail and quickly ambled over to him.

“You want to go outside?”

Her tail wagged even faster.

“Come on, girl. Hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

Jack undid his tie and draped it across the hallway closet doorknob. He unbuttoned his top shirt buttons and took B.B.’s leash from her mouth. 

He was happy that he could come home to B.B. Jack could hear the happy gloating in Alicia’s voice.

“See? I told you a dog would be good for you,” she had said over the phone.

“No one likes a braggart, maman,” Jack chirped.

“All I’m saying is maybe you should listen to me about _other_ things as well, Jacky.”

Jack shook his head as he recalled his mother’s words. There was no time for "other things," no matter how much she wanted it. 

B.B. happily trotted to the elevator, and Jack knew that if she hadn’t been there, his evening would have proceeded much differently—lots of (according to his therapist “unwarranted”) self-doubt with a dash of self-loathing. B.B. helped him remember that there were good things to be found everywhere, even though Jack forgot so many times. He smiled softly at her as she rushed into the elevator.

“We won,” he said to B.B., “but it feels like a loss to me.”

She looked up at Jack with large, questioning eyes.

“Marty says I’m too hard on myself, and I have to let loose a little.” Jack sighed. “I think he’s right… but old habits die hard, you know?”

She blinked a few times, and Jack smiled. He bent down to scratch her head. Soon the two were walking down the street, and Jack felt he was practically vibrating out of his skin. He replayed various moments from the Blues game as they walked, driving back into that rut of self-doubt he created so often in his mind. Jack was so caught up in his thoughts that when they turned the corner, he smacked right into someone. Jack heard a splash hit the sidewalk.

“Good gravy!” a voice cried out.

Jack jumped back as B.B. barked twice. When the dust settled, Jack realized what happened. He walked into the man from the bakery, Eric, and knocked his coffee right out his hand. His to-go cup rolled slowly across the sidewalk.

“ _Crisse!_ I am so sorry!” Jack called out as B.B. ran to sniff at the mess.

“Hey, it’s you! Scone Man!” Eric said with a smile as he dusted off his jacket. “I’m okay. I didn’t get any on me. Was just startled more than anything.” 

Jack frowned then noticed that B.B. was licking at what appeared to be the last remnants of whipped cream.

“That’s not hot chocolate, is it?” Jack asked, suddenly alarmed. He didn’t want B.B. to become ill.

“What?” Eric said as he looked toward B.B. “Oh, no. No hot cocoa. It was just a cinnamon latte that I had no business drinking this late in the evening anyway, so, really, you did me a favor.”

Eric smiled at B.B., then bent down to pick up the cup and tossed it in a nearby trash can.

“Did you know that cinnamon is actually good for dogs?” he said.

Jack wrinkled his nose. “It is? I didn’t know that. What does it do?”

Eric blushed then laughed. “I don’t know! I gave you the first bit, though. Google the rest!”

Jack’s lips quirked into a tiny smile.

“Are you just leaving the bakery?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I don’t live too far so I usually just walk.”

Eric smiled at Jack and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet.

“I’m Jack, by the way,” he said, feeling bold enough to offer his name.

“So you don’t want me to call you Scone Man, is what you’re telling me.”

Jack smiled shyly. “I guess?”

“Eric,” he said as he extended his hand.

Jack felt himself blush as he shook Eric’s hand.

“So--” Jack began, about to ask Eric if he wanted to join him for the rest of B.B.’s walk.

B.B. nudged at Jack’s hand with her nose.

“It looks like Ms. B.B. here wants to get going, so I’ll get out of your hair,” Eric said. 

“Oh, okay. Guess so,” Jack said.

“Have a good one,” Eric said with a wave and a bright smile.

He made his way down the sidewalk as his cowlick bounced slightly with every step.

He paused halfway down the block, turned around and added, “Try not to run over anyone else tonight!”

Jack fumbled as he tried to think of something to say; he didn’t want to be a total dud like last time. 

“Euh, no guarantees!” he called back.

Eric chuckled and continued walking.

That night, Jack laid in bed, thinking about Eric, which he immediately thought was silly, seeing that he knew absolutely nothing about him. Still, it was interesting that he would run into him, him of all people, that night.

Of course, Eric probably thought he was some weirdo klutz… or maybe he didn’t? Eric didn’t seem upset and seemed to smile genuinely, and what a smile it was. Jack thought of it as he drifted off to sleep while B.B. dreamt at the foot of his bed.

**+++**

The next day, on his way to practice, he stopped in front of the blue house once again. The little Pride flag flapped in the wind as the sun shone on it, just so. Jack waved at the home and instantly felt silly doing it, but he shrugged and smiled as he drove on.

Throughout practice, Jack couldn't help but smile. He felt like he was on. Jack could see the puck everywhere, could see assists before they happened, and damn, it felt good to be a part of a team. He smiled as he scored against Snowy, and got a playful smack on the helmet from Guy.

After practice, Tater approached Jack as he finished getting dressed.

“Zimmboni, we’re going for donuts. Want to come with us for first time in your life?”

Jack stopped tying his gym shoes.

“Donuts? What--where are you going? Blue Haus?”

“Okay, maybe next time,” Tater said with a sigh.

“What?” Jack asked, confused.

“Wait.” Tater paused. “You want to come with us?”

“Yes! Yeah. Why not? Donuts are good,” Jack muttered, trying to appear cool. He finished tying his shoes. “Uh, sure.”

Tater looked at Jack. 

“What do you mean?” Tater asked.

“We can go grab a donut. Why not?”

Tater raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on? Who are you, and what did you do with Zimmboni?”

Jack got up and clapped Tater on the back.

“Let’s go get some donuts, man.”

**+**

Thirdy, Marty, Snowy, and Tater led the way as Jack hid behind them, questioning his decision to come. What was he doing there? Eric was going to think Jack was stalking him or something. He wasn’t, right?

“Hey, fellas! Glad to see you again! Y’all want your usual assorted dozen?” Eric asked.

“Yeah, please,” Thirdy said, then turned when he noticed Jack skulking behind him. 

“Who you got back there?” Eric asked. “You brought a new friend to partake of the Bittle sweets?”

The group turned to look at Jack, then parted like the Red Sea, which, Jack imagined, was probably the color of his face at that moment.

“Hey, it’s Scone Man!” Eric said enthusiastically. 

Jack waved meekly as Snowy practically yelled, “Scone Man?!”

“I didn’t know Jack was y’all’s friend. He came in here the other day, and then we ran into each other on the street last night—literally.”

Jack smiled bashfully. “You sure I don’t owe you any dry cleaning or anything?” 

Eric waved him off. “Lord, no, I told you I was okay. I didn’t know you knew this motley crew. Now I’m feeling somewhat insulted that this is only your second time here when I practically know what these fellas like by heart.”

“I’ll probably be coming more often now that I have some sort of life debt hanging over my head since I practically maimed you last night.”

Eric laughed and shook his head. “How’s B.B.?”

“She told me I should probably lawyer up,” he said solemnly.

“You are a hoot! This boy.”

Jack chuckled and then stopped when he realized four sets of eyes were intently watching their interaction. His laughter died instantly.

“Zimmboni, you sly--” 

Snowy shoved Tater, who simultaneously got a sideways kick from Marty.

“What?!” Tater protested as Jack immediately wanted to be swallowed up by the ground.

Eric cleared his throat as he looked at everyone.

“One dozen donuts, coming right up.” 

Eric turned away, and Jack saw the enormous grins spread across the guys’ faces. The chirps were practically visible. God, he could already see the questions forming. The team knew he was bi, but they’d never actually seen him with anyone—at all. Jack wasn’t sure he was in the mood for that right then and there. Or ever.

“I just remembered… I have to go. B.B.’s dog walker has to leave early.”

Eric turned back toward them just as Jack began to exit.

“Jack, come on, man--” Thirdy said as Marty said something in French.

Jack could hear their protests as he left and quickly began making his way down the sidewalk toward his car. His heart pounded in his throat.

“Jack! Jack, wait up!”

He turned and saw Eric running toward him.

“Here! I know you’re in a hurry, so here’s a little apple turnover. On the house.”

Eric pressed the bag into Jack’s hand. He didn’t ask questions or prod him about anything; he simply gave him the bag, smiled, and walked away.

**+++**

**Marty** : _We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, kiddo._

 **Snowy** : _You alright, JZ??_

 **Tater** : _Zimmboni, thanks for coming with us!! ))))_

 **Thirdy** : _Carrie wants to know if you want to come over for dinner next week?_

Jack read the texts but didn’t know how to respond. In hindsight, he felt like he may have overreacted, but Jack couldn’t help how he felt, and his therapist said he shouldn’t apologize for his feelings. 

Jack put his phone down on the coffee table and whistled for B.B. She came into the living and jumped slowly onto the couch, instantly placing her head on Jack’s lap.

“Well, at least Eric didn’t ask for any explanations.”

B.B. let out a loud yawn. 

Jack thought about how Eric simply gave him the apple turnover without asking for an explanation or without looking at him as if he had three heads. Jack realized he still had the pastry Eric gave him left untouched.

“You want a treat? Come on, girl.”

Jack walked to the kitchen and picked up the little Blue Haus bag. He opened it, and it smelled fantastic—cinnamony sweet. 

Jack cut the turnover in half and gave one half to B.B. She swallowed it in one gulp and licked her chops repeatedly.

“That good, huh?” Jack asked. 

Her wagging tail served as confirmation.

Jack took a bite of the apple turnover and practically moaned. The silky sweetness of the apples was perfect with the buttery crust. It was just as delicious as the savory scone he first had at Blue Haus. Jack closed his eyes as he chewed and let his mind wander toward sweet thoughts of Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos. They are truly appreciated and motivate me. I have class starting on Wednesday, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have for more fic after I finish this one. Meep!


	3. Until Next Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack runs into Eric again and wonders if maybe there's something there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, Nelly! This one was a bear to write, goodness gracious my stars. But hey, we have a Chad make a special guest appearance. I'm not so sure about this chapter, but let's go. :/

It was a most unusual morning in that Jack Zimmermann, Mr. Early-to-bed Early-to-Rise, let himself sleep in. He had two days off in a row. Two! It was a little nugget of a gift during the season, and so, he slept in for there was no reason to get up early. No siree, (Bab) Bob! 

B.B., however, had a different say in the matter. 

“ _Merde!_ ” he groaned when he realized she desperately needed to go out. “Sorry, girl. Gimme a second.”

Jack got out of bed—slow like taffy—pulled on a pair of track pants he had on the armchair in the corner of the room and grabbed an old Habs t-shirt from his dresser. He caught his reflection in the mirror and saw that his hair was a riot. He shrugged and yawned as they both made their way outside.

Jack and B.B. quickly went around the block and then raced back upstairs. The second they were inside the apartment, Jack kicked off his slides, peeled off his pants and t-shirt unceremoniously dumping them on the bedroom floor, and let himself sink back into bed with a happy groan, instantly falling asleep. 

When Jack awoke several hours later, he gave himself a full body stretch and saw it was nearly ten. It felt deliciously decadent, and he wasn’t going to let himself feel guilty about it either. 

B.B. sat up to full attention and nuzzled Jack’s foot.

“Yeah, it’s nice to sleep in, eh?”

She gave him a small yelp, and he nodded in agreement. Jack got out of bed and felt a little pep in his step, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He only knew he felt good.

He quickly took a shower and slipped on some jeans and a grey henley. Jack hummed to himself as he refilled B.B.’s food bowl. 

“Alexia, play the _‘70s on 7_.”

Singing, he opened the fridge and took out some eggs, mushrooms, spinach that was starting to get slimy, the rotisserie chicken that was half gone, and some cheddar cheese. He placed everything on the counter, took out the milk then closed the fridge with a gentle bump of his hip.

“I'm traveling at the speed of light,” he sang softly to the song on the radio. “I wanna make a supersonic man out of you.” 

His bare feet felt good against the cold kitchen tiles. The sun streamed brightly through the windows, and Jack was in a good mood. A great mood, in fact. 

He cut the veggies and meat and decided he could make some chicken stock out of the carcass. (His mother taught him that if you made some stock and froze it in ice cubes, you could always just pop a stock cube into things you were cooking for extra flavor.)

“Extra cheese or regular cheese?” Jack asked himself as he carefully flipped his mushroom, chicken, and cheese omelet. 

“Extra cheese it is.” He tossed B.B. a small chunk of cheese, which she immediately ate.

He plated his omelet and sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy his breakfast. The coffee he sipped gingerly was rich and heady and went splendidly well with his eggs.

“I was thinking how about we go to that dog park today? You know, the one that’s next to the big park by that bookstore.”

B.B. glanced at Jack, then wolfed down the rest of her kibble.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

He grabbed his phone and responded to each text the guys had sent him. His basic response text was the same for each one.

 **Jack** : _No worries. See you tomorrow!_

He added a smiley face to Tater’s.

Jack smiled at B.B. and took another long sip of his coffee.

**+++**

“Catch!”

Jack threw a tennis ball, and B.B. ran to catch it. He could see her back leg give her a bit of trouble, but could tell she was having fun. The vet had recommended not to do anything. As long as she wasn’t in any pain, B.B. was fine.

B.B. began to frolic with a nearby beagle, and Jack took out his phone to take a picture of them. He laughed as the beagle nipped at B.B.’s tail, and he could practically see her frown.

“Well, she’s just having the best ol’ time now, isn’t she?”

Jack turned, and there stood Eric. He was in running shorts and a t-shirt looking dewy and flush from the run he apparently just finished.

“Hello,” Jack said as he almost dropped his phone.

“I’m not stalking you, promise,” Eric said with a smile. “Hi.”

The two smiled at each other without speaking.

“Thanks for the apple thingy, by the way. It was delicious.”

“Apple thingy, huh? Maybe I should change the name on the menu?” he teased.

“Well, only if I get royalties or something.”

Eric laughed. “Aren’t you presumptuous?”

Every time Eric laughed, Jack felt his stomach pleasantly flip.

B.B. approached with the ball in her mouth and dropped it at Eric’s feet.

“Hello, Ms. B.B. And how are you doing, my dear? It’s lovely to meet you officially.”

She ran in a tight circle and then jumped up on Eric.

“B.B.! No!” Jack, mortified, got her down.

“It’s okay. She didn’t mean any harm.”

Jack looked at Eric’s legs, maybe a beat too long. “She didn’t scratch you, did she?”

“No, I’m okay. Really. She’s just curious about new people, aren’t ya, girl?”

Eric got down on his haunches to scratch B.B. behind the ears. Jack loved how at ease B.B. instantly was with him. 

“You’re good with dogs. Most people get nervous around big ones.”

“We never had one, but my extended family was really into dogs.” B.B. licked Eric’s face once, and he laughed. “My one cousin, Lenny, had a dog with one eye. Cy was just so darn sweet.”

“Cy?” Jack said with a smile. “Dogs with people names are funny.”

Eric rose and said plainly, “Oh no, honey. Cy was short for Cyclops.”

Eric took the ball from Jack and tossed out for B.B. to catch. Jack suddenly began to laugh, a full belly laugh, and caught up to Eric and B.B. 

“So, Jack. How do you know that group of hooligans you went to my bakery with?”

Jack grinned. “Really?”

B.B. gave the ball to Eric again, and he tossed it across the park.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m on the team with them?”

Eric paused. “Really? How come you’re not as much of a loud hot mess as they are?”

Jack smiled. “Oh, I’m a mess, for sure.”

Eric shrugged. “You seem fine to me. Just a little shy and private.”

The two continued walking around the park as B.B. trotted alongside them, ball held firmly in her mouth.

“That’s probably the nicest thing someone who just met me has ever said about me,” Jack said.

Eric smiled. “Well then, people are silly and just need to pay attention.”

They made their way over to a bench, and B.B. sat down, heavily panting, trying to cool down. 

“When you meet new people all the time, you just become a little more observant, I guess, and can get to people’s nature fine and dandy.”

“Fine and dandy?” Jack’s lips quirked into a tiny grin. “So you’re not from around here, are you?”

“I’m from England,” Eric said with a completely straight face.

“I thought so,” Jack chirped. “The second you spoke, I said to myself, ‘That man is from across the pond.’”

Eric laughed. “Are you sure it wasn’t more like the second I spoke, you said to yourself, ‘Who is this fool going on about scones?!’”

Jack joined him in laughter, “No, I swear I didn’t.”

“Hmm,” Eric said skeptically. 

“You were just very... forceful?”

Eric blushed. “Forceful? Lord, if that’s the vibe I’m giving off, maybe I should reconsider being a shop owner?”

“But then we wouldn’t be able to taste anything you bake, and you’re so good at it.”

Eric gently nudged Jack with his shoulder. Their thighs momentarily touched. 

“You certainly are a charmer.”

Eric looked at his feet, and Jack couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not, but he could still feel the ghost of heat from his thigh.

“Madison. Georgia.” 

“What?”

“That’s where I’m from. It’s about an hour from Atlanta.”

“Do you go home often?” Jack asked, hoping the question wasn’t too intrusive.

“Home.” Eric said then _tsked_. “I really don’t consider Madison home anymore.” He reached over to pet B.B., “But I do try to get back there now and then, especially to see my MooMaw.”

“Your MooMaw? Is that your grandmother?”

Eric nodded. “Yeah. She’s 82 and still bakes pies that she sells at the farmers’ market.”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right, but what’s great is she doesn’t seem to be slowing down. She’s always lived life fully, and I love that, you know?”

Jack frowned. In theory, that sounded great, but in practice, he couldn’t imagine living without fear or doubt. Not that he wanted that, but it was always, always there.

“You’re not a local boy either, though,” Eric said with a smile.

“How did you know?” Jack said. 

“Hmmm... could it be your extreme politeness or your O's?"

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said, exaggerating his O’s.

“Aboot,” Eric said.

“Soory,” Jack replied.

Eric smiled, and Jack felt it was... easy. This. Talking to him was easy. And nice.

“Montreal. My folks still live up there, but we lived in Pittsburgh for a while when I was a kid. My dad played for the Pens.”

“He was a hockey player, too?” Eric asked. 

Jack smiled so hard; he felt his face was going to crack.

“Yeah, he played a little.”

“I feel like you’re teasin’ me, Scone Man.”

Jack held his hands up in surrender. “Me? Never.”

Eric smiled at Jack and said softly, “I’d never tease you.”

He instantly blushed after he did.

The two were silent for a beat, then Eric spoke. 

“Guess I should make a confession. I don’t follow hockey, so I can’t say I’ve ever seen y’all play.”

Jack smiled again. “You’re forgiven.”

“How magnanimous of you, considering I wasn’t asking for forgiveness.”

“I can get you some tick--” Jack stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Eric’s expression change.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

He saw a man walk toward them as Eric mumbled something under his breath.

“Eric, hey! What a surprise,” the man said as he smiled brightly at Eric and gave Jack a quick once over.

“Hi, Chad,” Eric responded with a tight smile.

“You haven’t called, but I figured you were just busy at work or something. I called the bakery, and they told me you might be here,” Chad said, turning his back to Jack.

“They did, did they?” Eric said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “This is my friend, Jack,” Eric said, drawing attention to Jack. “Jack, this is Chad.”

“Hello,” Jack said, extending his hand, which was ignored by Chad.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked Jack.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Dude, you look _so_ familiar,” Chad said. He then turned back toward Eric. “Anyway, Eric. I was waiting for you to text me. I had a good time the other night.” 

Eric frowned briefly then quickly looked at Jack. “Like you said, I’ve been busy with the bakery.”

Jack then realized that Eric and this Chad guy had gone out—or whatever. Instantly, his hands began to sweat, and he felt like he was in the way. A third wheel. An unwanted guest.

“I should probably go,” Jack began just as he rose from the bench.

Eric said, “Wait. Right now?”

Jack clucked his tongue, and B.B. stood up. 

“B.B., _on y va-tu?_ Eric, it was nice seeing you.”

Jack quickly walked away with B.B. in tow, as he heard Eric say, “Jack, wait.”

He didn’t turn back.

That night, the high that Jack had felt in the morning was replaced by self-doubt. Was Chad Eric’s boyfriend? Jack felt stupid for thinking that maybe he and Eric were having a moment when Eric was probably already spoken for. 

Jack made himself a sandwich and left it half-eaten when he decided to crawl into bed. He watched shadows dance on his bedroom ceiling and then turned on his side and closed his eyes. He hugged his pillow tightly and eventually drifted off to sleep.

B.B. slept restlessly at the foot of his bed.

**+++**

“Zimmboni, why are you being extra cranky today?” Tater asked in the locker room after morning skate. “We’re going to Blue Haus today, do you want to come with us?”

Jack huffed bitterly. “No, definitely not.”

Jack had a hard time keeping his head on the task at hand. Morning skate seemed like it dragged on forever, and all he wanted to do was go home, take B.B. for a walk, eat some Indian take out and go to bed.

“You can see cute baker again,” Tater said and then got whacked with a knee pad that flew at him from across the room. “Hey!”

“Leave him be,” Marty called out.

“I just don’t feel like a donut today, all right?”

He said it so flatly, no one asked him anything else, and Jack tried to pretend he didn’t see the glances the team exchanged.

On the way home, he drove by the blue house with the yellow door, and even it didn’t help that day.

“Sorry,” Jack said to it as he kept driving.

**+++**

“Picking up an order for Zimmermann.”

“Sure, about five more minutes.”

Jack nodded and sat down on the to-go bench, waiting for his Indian take out, trying to improve his mood. It didn’t help matters that Tater kept texting him. 

The old wooden bench wobbled back and forth slightly as the scent of curry in the air made his stomach growl. 

**Tater** : _You should have come to Blue Haus with us._

 **Tater** : _Little baker asked for you. Looked sad when he didn’t see you. (((_

 **Tater** : _You missed maple apple donuts!_

 **Tater** : _SO GOOD!!!_

Jack put his phone on vibrate and shoved it back in his pocket. He mindless leafed through a take out menu when the bell over the front door chimed. He looked up and saw Eric standing there, appearing somewhat surprised.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asked.

“I’m here to pick up my prescription of hemorrhoid cream, of course. What are you doing here?” Eric asked with a goofy look. Jack could not make out if it was sass, chirpiness, humor, or all of the above.

Jack scratched his cheek and finally spoke. “Euh, waiting for my food?”

“Food?” Eric said. He looked around the restaurant and grinned. “You mean this isn’t Shaw’s? Guess I made a wrong turn.”

Eric walked up to the hostess.

“To go for Bittle?”

“Sure, about five more minutes,” she said to him without looking up for her phone.

Jack scooted over, and Eric sat next to him.

“Thanks.” 

The two sat silently.

“What did you order?” Jack finally asked.

“Chicken tikka masala, saag paneer, and samosas. You?”

“Rogan josh, aloo gobi, tandoori chicken and biryani.”

“So, like, five more minutes, huh?” Eric said.

“Yep.”

“Jack, why did you--” Eric began as Jack said, “Sorry, I--”

“You first,” Eric said.

Jack swallowed dryly. “I was just going to say, sorry I got in the way of your appointment.”

Eric looked confused. 

“Appointment?”

Jack nodded. “With your… guy.”

“My guy?” Eric asked appearing even more confused as Jack nodded again.

Eric was then struck with a look of recognition and loudly snorted, which startled Jack, who smiled, despite himself.

“Oh god, Chad? He’s not my boyfriend, far from it.”

“He’s not?”

“That nincompoop? Hell no. My friends, Adam and Justin, fixed me up on a blind date with him, and it was the worst. _He_ was the worst!”

Eric then made a little gagging motion with his finger and mouth as he stuck out his tongue. 

“I was upset he made you leave. He has that effect on you people, you know.”

“Haha,” Jack said. 

“Yeah, we went to dinner, and all he did was talk about CrossFit and being a paleo-quasi-vegan, whatever that means. He then proceeded to get super drunk, really fast, tried to kiss me, and barfed on my new shoes.”

Jack laughed. “That sounds terrible!”

“They were adorable shoes, Jack,” Eric said with a defeated sigh. “Adam and Justin mean well but, jeez, those two don't have a lick of sense when it comes to figuring out what I like. Excel spreadsheet or not.”

“Spreadsheet?” Jack said as he chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Eric laughed softly, then looked at Jack. “What are the odds that I keep running into you?” he asked.

Jack wondered that himself. Why Eric? Why so often? He was about to say that maybe it was fate—but then thought it was too corny.

“Zimmermann? Your order is ready,” the woman called.

Jack got up and paid for his food, then sat back down with Eric.

“I’ll wait with you if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Eric smiled. “Thanks.”

“Bittle? Food’s ready.”

“Or not?” Eric said as he fetched his food and grinned. “So much for that,” he said as Jack got up.

Jack held the door open for Eric. They walked outside and stood silently, waiting for the other to speak. Jack studied Eric’s face, his long lashes, his cute nose, how he chewed on his bottom lip. His shyness was apparent, and knowing they were both perhaps feeling the same thing, made Jack feel brave, but before he could speak, Eric chimed in.

“Do you want to eat dinner with me? At my place?” Eric asked in one breath.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, bring your food, and let's go hang out.” Eric nodded and smiled brightly. “I promise I won’t barf on your shoes.”

“I’d like to... but I can’t. B.B.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

“I don’t live too far. If you want, we can go to my place for dinner,” Jack added quickly.

Eric offered a smile, then it faded. 

“It’s just... I left a pie in the oven, and I have to go back.” He looked down at his watch. “I have 20 minutes. Normally, I’d never leave a pie unattended, but I just was so hungry and only planned on running here and then running back home, but then I saw you.”

Jack sighed. What good was continually bumping into each other if they could never spend time together?

“How about I give you my number, and we can plan for something?” Eric asked. “No pressure.”

Jack beamed. “Okay.”

Eric pulled out his phone and handed it to Jack. “Here. Enter your number, and I’ll send you a text.”

When Jack returned the phone, Eric immediately sent a message.

_It’s me, Eric. From the bakery! Hi!_

The text had several pie and cookie emojis.

 _Bakery???_ Jack chirped back.

Eric laughed.

“Stop being so damn charming,” he said to Jack as he blushed and put his phone away. “So, I guess I’ll see you next time, huh?”

“Yeah. Until next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On y va-tu? = Ready to go?
> 
> Yes, of course, Jack [loves Queen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgzGwKwLmgM). #Bicons.
> 
> Shaw's is a pharmacy chain in Providence.
> 
> And now I want Indian food. :(


	4. The Blue House with the Yellow Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric and Jack become closer, and Jack realizes some chances are worth taking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring some dialog from [Family Skate](https://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/160780287097), and a special guest appearance by Bitty's [sticky notes](https://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/146569719837).

**Eric** : _How many touchdowns did you score?_

 **Jack** : _Three. Are you impressed?_

 **Eric** : _Pssh. I mean you’re no David Beckham but it’s fine._

 **Jack** : _You realize you’re all over the place, right, bud?_

 **Eric** : _Listen, just because I don’t live for sportsball! Don’t sass me, Zimmermann._

 **Jack** : _Sass? You know I don’t speak southern._

 **Eric** : _Don’t you have a job to do instead of harassing me? Curling or something?_

 **Jack** : _Haha._

 **Eric** : _Fine. I’ll make a special donut in your honor since you scored all those home runs._

 **Eric** : _I’ll call it the Big Bottom Maple Supreme._

 **Jack** : _Euh, thanks?_

 **Eric** : _It’ll be bigger than a bear claw TBH. Just for you and all those touchdowns._

 **Jack** : _Great. I’ll be sure to thank my coaches for all their help and training getting the touchdowns. I’ll even thank my old coaches at Samwell._

 **Eric** : _Samwell?_

 **Jack** : _That’s where I went to school._

 **Eric** : _Stop._

 **Jack** : _Why? No, it’s true._

 **Eric** : _STOP! OMG!_

 **Jack** : _What?_

 **Eric** : _Jack._

 **Eric** : _JACK. I almost went to Samwell._

 **Jack** : _No way_

 **Eric** : _Yes way! I ended up going to BU, but I swear I almost went to Samwell. One in four, maybe more!_

 **Jack** : _It’s a really small school. That’s incredible. What are the odds?_

 **Eric** : _What are the odds indeed?_

Jack smiled as he reread the last batch of texts he and Eric exchanged. Throughout their recent deluge of texts, Jack and Eric kept finding more and more commonalities. Samwell was just another thing. It was unnerving and exciting. 

“Big smiles from Zimmboni. Who are you texting?” Tater asked as his head popped up from the seat behind Jack’s.

“Nothing,” Jack said as he quickly put his phone down. 

The plane bounced with some unexpected turbulence; Jack's water swirled in its cup.

Tater snorted. “Nothing? Zimmboni, you answered too fast. Seems like something to me.”

“He’s just a friend,” Jack said. 

Tater beamed. “Friend-friend or _friend_ -friend?”

“Jesus, Tater, he’s being fucking discreet, you know?” Snowy said, eyes closed, as he sat in the seat across from Jack, apparently not napping.

“Secret?” Tater called out. “Why? Who cares? Is it bitty baker from Blue Haus? The one that always ask for you?”

“Some of us are trying to sleep, man!” Guy yelled from a couple of rows down.

“No one is stopping you, Guy!” Tater shot back.

“Ignore him,” Snowy said as he pulled his snapback down lower, eyes still closed.

Jack wasn’t entirely sure which “him” Snowy was referring to.

“No one care if you have boyfriend, only that he makes you smile,” Tater said and finally sat back in his seat.

“Thanks, Tater,” Jack said quietly without turning around. “But he’s not my boyfriend.”

Tater’s hand appeared from in between the seat and patted Jack on the shoulder. “Not yet, Zimmboni. Not yet.”

Jack smiled and closed his eyes as their flight to Los Angeles continued.

The thing about very long roadies was that even though one was with the team the entire time, it could still get a little lonely. Nighttime stretches, in particular, could be difficult. Crawling through the hours, knowing the rest of the team is asleep… and when the sun finally comes up, you wonder if anyone might be thinking of you at all, in that particular moment.

Jack brushed his teeth as his phone chimed.

 **Eric** : _Keep working hard!!_

 **Eric** : _You inspire me!_

 **Eric** : _Have fun out there <3 _

Talking to Eric, the loneliness never really stayed.

 **Jack** : _You too._

The game against the Kings was brutal, and a hard loss. So far, the Falconers were 4-2 on that road trip, and while Jack would normally be licking his wounds and unnecessarily shouldering the burden of the loss, that time, however, it wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t the end of the world.

 **Eric** : _One game at a time!_

 **Jack** : _:-)_

**+**

Jack was glad to finally be going home. He missed his apartment, he missed B.B., and he missed Eric. That one had thrown Jack for a loop because they hadn’t really spent any time together in person, but he absolutely missed Eric. The idea of having him nearby, the potential and possibility of it all—it was all at once strange, exciting, and a bit scary.

They had actually spoken on the phone once during the roadie. After their win against the Schooners, Eric had called Jack.

“I know you’re probably dead tired, but I just wanted to tell you, real quick, I saw your game.”

“Yeah?” Jack had asked.

“Uh-huh. It was super exciting! Lord, that was something else. I was wishing I could be on the ice with y’all. Maybe in another life, I could have played some hockey, but then I think about getting hit by someone, and I’d probably pass out.”

Jack smiled. “I think you could have handled it.”

There was silence on the line, but Jack could have sworn he heard Eric smile.

“Well, I just wanted to say congrats on the win.”

“Thanks,” Jack said softly. 

“You’re welcome,” Eric replied, just as soft. 

Jack gripped the phone tightly as he listened to Eric’s breathing on the other line. Each one, perhaps waiting for the other to say something—although Jack had no idea what. He could feel his heart almost beating out of his chest.

“Send me a selfie,” Eric blurted out.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said, breathlessly.

“I don’t do those.”

“What? Come on. For me?”

“Yeah… okay.”

Jack remembered how he smiled for the selfie and sent the photo to Eric. Eric, in return, had sent him a text with several blushy emoji-thingy faces, followed by a photo of him in what Jack could only imagine was his bedroom. Eric sat on his bed and waved; a small bedside table lamp, making him glow in a soft yellow light. He looked sleepy, yet content, slightly tousled, and absolutely beautiful.

Jack smiled and closed his eyes, as the flight brought him closer to home.

**+++**

“Hey, man.”

“Jackadillio, it’s good to hear from you, brah!” Shitty said as he laughed loudly into the phone.

Jack was driving home from the airport, after he picked up B.B at the dog boarders when he decided to call Shitty. 

Shitty was one of the few people that Jack felt he could fully open up with. Ever since Shitty pushed his way into Jack’s life (Thank, god!) during their freshman year at Samwell, he knew Shitty wasn’t going anywhere. Shitty always listened, offered sound advice, and never judged. 

“What’s new, pussycat?” Shitty said, sounding tinny over the car speaker.

“I guess I have news, and just wanted to bounce it off you?”

“Holy shit. It sounds serious. Do I need to sit down? Were you traded?! Fuck!”

“No, Shits. _Tabarnak._ Calm down, man, and note, it’s _me_ saying that.”

“Okay, okay, okay, okay.” Shitty exhaled forcefully. “What happened?”

“I’m... sort of seeing someone. I think.”

Jack was met with silence.

“Shits?”

“Wait… YOU FUCKING CANADIAN BEAUT! HOLY SHIT!”

Jack winced as Shitty’s voice reverberated throughout the car and B.B. barked. 

“Hey, B.B. How’s my favorite fur niece? ANYHOO! Who the fuck are they?”

Jack smiled. “His name is Eric. He owns a bakery not far from the condo.”

“Did you sleep with him, yet?”

Jack swerved slightly, hitting a pothole on the street. 

“Sleep with him?! We--we haven’t even been on a proper date yet.”

“Date schmate! So, when will you call on Mr. Eric and take him on a ‘proper date?’”

Jack sighed. “We’ve been texting a lot while I was on my roadie, and have talked on the phone once. And, Shits, he’s just really easy to talk to, you know?”

“Nice.”

“And I keep bumping into him and having all these weird things in common with him. I ran into him at the dog park, at the Indian restaurant, the only reason I went to his bakery is that the guys go there all the time and said I had to. He almost went to Samwell!”

“He’s probably your soulmate, Jackabelle.”

“Soulmates?” Jack scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”

“Says you! Look, just because you’ve _only_ just met yours—sorry B.B., no offense—doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Don’t be a damn dream squasher.”

“But…”

“Jeez, but what, what?”

“What if we get together and he decides I’m too much of a mess or too awkward and quiet, or realizes that I get too intense nearing the end of the season. You know what I’m like,” Jack said as his voice grew louder and panicked.

B.B. whined quietly from the back seat.

“Jack. Jack Laurent Knight Zimmermann.”

“Yeah?”

“And I say this with all the love in my ‘stache…”

Jack pulled up at the stop sign in front of the blue house with the yellow door.

“If the Universe is putting a cutie in your path,” Shitty continued, “who are you to refuse?”

**+++**

“Thanks for walking her with me,” Jack said as he walked alongside Eric, who held B.B.’s leash. 

She picked up the pace when she spotted a squirrel dart across the street. Eric laughed as he and Jack caught up to her.

“Whoa, Nelly!” Eric called out.

“B.B. Her name is B.B.,” Jack chirped.

“Whoa, B.B.! Ya see, that just doesn’t sound as nice.”

“Hmm,” Jack said. “I guess.”

“So, the dog walker will take her out later?” Eric asked.

“Yeah, I told Jenny I’d text her if I was going to be late.”

Instantly, the two blushed with what that lateness might have implied.

“Say, what does B.B. stand for, anyway?” Eric asked suddenly. “Or is her name actually Bee-Bee?” 

Jack chuckled. “Her name at the shelter was Butter but I thought she was beautiful, so I just started calling her Beauty.”

“Aw,” Eric said as he looked at Jack, eyes shining.

“Shitty, though, said that it was unfair to change her birth name so I just started calling her B.B. for short.”

Eric shook his head and smiled. “I swear, one day I'm going to have to meet that Shitty character. From everything you've told me, he sounds like a hoot.”

“He's a good guy. You'd really like him.”

Eric followed B.B. over to a nearby tree.

“It's kind of funny, you know,” he said as he looked at Jack over his shoulder.

“What?”

“That her name was Butter and she's being walked by a baker. Isn't that right, girl?”

B.B. looked up at Eric adoringly and tagged her tail. Jack smiled as he watched the two casually make their way down the block with familiarity and ease.

“She really likes you,” Jack said.

“What can I say? I’m a likable Southern gentleman.” Eric smiled even as his cheeks pinked slightly.

After they took B.B. back home, Eric and Jack drove to dinner. They were going to a small Italian place that Jack really enjoyed. It was owned by a young family; the husband, Gabriel, ran the front of the house, and the wife, Gina, was the chef. They had grown fond of Jack, who tried to go at least once a month, and slowly but surely had become chattier during each visit. 

“I hope you like this place,” Jack said as he found a parking spot across the street. “It’s not too fancy but the food is good.” 

“Gina’s? Come on, I love this place!” Eric said as he looked out the car window.

“Right on,” Jack said and smiled, as he heard Shitty’s voice in the back of his mind.

They walked in and Gabriel was hosting.

“Jack and Eric, you know each other? What a surprise,” Gabriel said.

“Yeah, we just figured out we knew you,” Jack said shyly.

“This is so amazing,” Eric said as Gabriel led them to a cozy table in the back. 

“I’ll make sure Gina comes out and says hi,” Gabriel said as he handed them each a menu. “A bottle of red?”

“Sure, thanks, Gabriel.”

Eric smiled as Gabriel walked away. “I would say, what are the odds, but I think at this point it’s par for the course, right?”

Gina approached their table with Gabriel at her side.

“Hey, guys!” she said with an enormous smile. “I didn’t know you two knew each other. This is so neat.”

Gabriel poured their wine and asked, “Special occasion, or just dinner?”

Eric looked at Jack, and Jack finally said, “It’s our first date.”

Gina and Gabriel’s expressions turned into outright glee.

“Cool,” Gabriel said, trying to rein it in.

“Guys, let me surprise you and make something for you off the menu, yeah?” Gina said. “It’s not every day my two favorite customers come in together.”

Jack and Eric agreed, and Jack tried not to notice Gina and Gabriel’s smiles as they left the table.

Dinner, of course, was delicious. Gina made her favorites for them, and Jack tried not to feel overwhelmed by all the extra attention. Eric didn’t seem to mind it at all, however, and as the wine continued to flow, Jack felt more at ease. There was never a pause in their conversation, and if Jack became quiet, Eric instantly took over giving Jack a feeling of both relief and acceptance. 

“I…” Eric began, then looked down at his plate of risotto and scallops, “um…”

“What is it?” Jack asked as he paused mid-chew.

“Oh, no, please don’t get that little crinkle on your forehead. All I was going to say was that I missed you while you were gone.”

“Sorry,” Jack said bashfully. 

“Sorry I missed you?”

“No, sorry for the forehead,” Jack pointed at it, “thing.”

“You’re forgiven. I mean, lord, who else was I going to bump into everywhere I went?”

Jack smiled and took a bite of his scallops.

After dinner, the two walked around the area, window shopping as they drank some coffee Gabriel had put in to-go cups for them.

“I had a nice time tonight,” Eric said as he paused at a red light.

Jack thought about how easy, really easy, it had been for him to be with Eric. There was no pretending, no real worries, his anxiety, and self-doubt seemed to take the night off. 

Jack didn’t want to put Eric on some sort of savior pedestal, but Jack knew he felt better when he was with Eric. (“He’s not your Manic Pixie Dream Boy, Jack,” Shitty had said, and Jack heartily agreed—after he looked up what the hell that meant.)

“Me too.”

Jack took Eric’s hand, and Eric smiled.

“Can I drive you home?” Jack asked.

“Well, you’re kind of my ride, so I would hope so,” Eric chirped.

“Oh, right, haha,” Jack said as he felt his face flush.

“Come on, handsome,” Eric said. 

He pulled Jack back toward the direction of the car. They deposited their coffee cups in a nearby trash can, and when they were back at the car, Jack opened the door for Eric.

“Thank you,” Eric said and squeezed Jack’s arm as he got in.

Jack ran to the other side of the car and quickly got in. The two stared at one another, and Jack thought that if he was going to kiss Eric (and he _really_ wanted to) this would be a perfect time. Of course, he over thought it and waited too long, and the moment had passed.

“Thanks again for dinner,” Eric said.

“I’m glad you were able to come out,” Jack said then started the car.

“Me too, honey. Me, too.”

“So, I have to tell you,” Jack began, “my mom, she’s already your biggest fan.”

“What?” Eric laughed. “How?”

“I told her I was going on a date and she got so excited, she dropped her phone.”

Eric laughed again. “That’s too funny! You got your poor mama all worked up. Well, how long has it been since your last date, mister?”

Jack gripped the steering wheel. “Euh, two years?”

“Two years? Wow.”

Jack blushed. “I’m busy and just--”

“No, honey! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound judgy. I mean, who am I to judge, my last date was with Chad Mc Shoe-Barf, and that was the first one in a while. Good for you, though, knowing what you want and don’t.”

Jack smiled thinking, yes, maybe he did know what he wanted. He thought back to Alicia on the phone.

“Is he cute?” she had asked.

“Yes, very,” Jack replied smugly.

“Where did you meet?”

“He owns a bakery not too far from me, and the guys kept telling me to go, so I finally did. And there he was.”

“What’s the bakery?”

“Blue Haus.”

Jack just about kicked himself after he told Alicia because he knew what that meant.

“He is SO cute! Jack!”

“Maman,” Jack said as he sighed and couldn’t help but smile.

“His website is nice and look! They have an Instagram. Should I follow it?”

“ _Crisse_ , please don’t.”

“When do I get to meet him?” Alicia asked. “Wait until I tell your father.”

“We’re barely having our first official date tomorrow. Let me breathe, will you?”

Alicia laughed, “Okay, but I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Aren’t you putting the cart before the horse?”

“No, I don’t think I am,” she had said confidently.

Jack wished he had that level of confidence. Although now, with Eric in his car, maybe he did?

Eric flipped through the radio and stopped at an old Queen song. He hummed along. 

“Now, I mostly listen to pop and dance, but I can’t help but love me some Queen. So good.”

Jack grinned. “Yeah, they are.”

Eric smiled and chattered about a new recipe he was trying out at the bakery when he suddenly called out.

“Oh! Sorry! I was so busy gabbing, I almost missed my own street. Make a right on Gano and just go to the end of the block.” Eric said.

It took Jack a second to see how close he was to his own place, and where he was exactly. 

“The house at the end. Yep, on the right. That blue house, that’s me.”

Jack stopped and realized what was happening.

“This… this is your house?” Jack said softly.

“Yeah, I know, the yellow door is super loud, some may even say tacky but--”

Jack leaned over and kissed Eric, much to Eric’s surprise. Eric quickly melted into the kiss, raking his fingers through Jack’s hair. After a few minutes, Jack pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his eyes still closed, exhaling shakily. “I should have asked first.”

Eric smiled and whispered, sounding just as shaky as Jack felt, “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t wanted to do that since you first walked into Blue Haus and messed up your order.”

“Blue Haus,” Jack repeated. “Blue house… oh my god,” he said and laughed. 

Eric grinned. “What? What’s so funny.”

“I’ve been in love with your house for months,” Jack said. “And all this time, you were inside it.”

Eric looked at Jack with all the softness in the world.

“What?”

“You’re the blue house.”

“I don’t--” Eric said, looking both confused and terribly fond.

“See, the thing is, when I see pictures of myself—old and new—I'm smiling,” Jack began, “but my smile? It never really reaches my eyes, you know?”

Jack knew he wasn’t making sense, but had to get it all out. 

“And then, I take a picture for you, and I’m smiling. Really smiling. Shitty said I had to just l listen to the universe… and he was right, but I’m not doing that.”

“You’re not?” Eric asked, eyebrows high.

“No,” Jack said. “I’m not. I'm listening to my heart instead. You know?"

“Yeah, I think I do,” Eric said as he leaned in for another kiss.

Jack kissed Eric, and those kisses were returned just as eagerly and heartfelt as they were given. How long they kissed, neither of them could say. But when they were finally inside the blue house with the yellow door, and Eric laid Jack down on his bed, kissing him everywhere, all his secret places where only his heart resided, Jack finally knew what it was like to have the best thing to ever happen to you, happen at last. 

When Eric took Jack fully apart, and lovingly put him back together again, using his clever mouth and hands—the sound of breathy sighs and whispered names filling the bedroom—Jack knew. He really, really knew.

Afterward, tangled up in Eric’s bed, in each other’s arms, when the sun began to rise, did Jack and Eric understand the magnitude of what had occurred to them both. It wasn’t just about coincidences, chance meetings, or being at the right place at the right time. It was about a lifelong journey toward one another, a journey that at last had come to fruition.

**+++**

Jack placed his bag in the trunk and walked over to the drivers’ side. He got in his car, took a sip of his travel mug coffee, and took one last bite of his cheddar bacon scone. It was his favorite but often messy. He brushed some crumbs off his game day suit and started the car. It was always tough starting a long roadie but it was nice knowing what he would have waiting for him when he came home. 

Jack adjusted his mirror, pulled out of the garage, drove onto the street and stopped. He paused to looked out toward his home, the blue house with the yellow door, and smiled brightly when he saw his husband, and dog, standing at the door waving goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I finished it. I don't know. I was iffy about this one from the start, but I think I liked it. Soft and sweet?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 100th OMGCP fic! Wow! I had no idea when I started writing OMGCP fics that I'd crank out 100 fics for this beautiful fandom and comic. Thanks to everyone who has kudo'd and commented on my fics. You're the bee's knees, the cat's pajamas, and I <3 u.
> 
> All OMGCP characters belong to Ngozi Ukazu.
> 
> Come and say hi [on Tumblr](https://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/post/618218725874810880/the-blue-house-with-the-yellow-door).


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